The real christmas story
'Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the house
all the creature’s where stirring,
even the mouse;
I had planed my escape with careful care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas would not be there;
I sat in my chair chained to led,
While visions of sugared-plums danced in my head;
I was starved, hadn’t eaten in a day or four;
No gruel or no-name crackers where here anymore,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the chains to see Miss shatter.
It was her signal, a clatter and wave,
I knew now I would have to be brave.
Us elves are tired of being treated like snow!
Trod on and trampled, crushed below,
I stole out the window when who should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so cruel and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
Someone had ratted I knew as they came,
he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
You dunce, Dasher! dumb, Dancer! Idiot, Prancer and Vixen!
Half witted, Comet! Stupid, Cupid! Dolt, Donder and Blitzen!
Get those elves or I’ll make you fall!
Now dash away! dash away!” and he whipped them all!
They realy where in no condition to fly,
But still he made them take to they sky,
so on and on the abused reindeer flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, a crunch, I heard on the roof
The crying and pawing of a taken down hoof.
As I drew back my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in reindeer fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes, blood and soot;
the bundle of rounded up elves he had flung on his back,And he looked like a smuggler just opening his sack.
His eyes -- how they crinkled! his dimples how hairy!
His cheeks were like blood, his nose like a very scary!
His drooling little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of the reindeer hoof he held tight in his teeth,
And the blood pooling in the form a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he cackled like a bowlful of rotten jelly.
He was mean and old, he said “right jolly old elf,”
And I cringed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And chained the elves back up; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of my nose,
And giving a tug, a crack, and then he froze;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his tired team gave a whistle,
And whipped them all with a sharp thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"I’ll destroy Christmas sometime, just not tonight."
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I am distructive when I'm bord. Parodies are fun. Happy non-denominational celebration.